


Descent

by LadyBoltonToYou



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Arthur Fleck/Reader - Freeform, Arthur/Reader - Freeform, F/M, Joker - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-31 21:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21152498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBoltonToYou/pseuds/LadyBoltonToYou
Summary: Arthur meets a pretty girl who treats him like a human being.You meet a kind man who looks at you with all the admiration in the worldWhere else could this go?





	1. Tick, Tock

**Author's Note:**

> My first Joker fanfic! I saw the movie Friday night and fell in love. I just had to write something for him.

The walls were barely covered by gritty wallpaper that had to be at least fifty years old. Flaked from age and made worse by anxious prying fingers. It was hard to look at, but it was one of the only things you could do waiting in the lobby. The small box T.V didn’t work, someone had messed up the wires about five years ago and the apartment manager didn’t care enough to fix it, not that he had the money for it anyway.

And that damn clock. It ticked too loud, for one, and it was always wrong. It’d been fixed a few times but after the fourth time Arthur fixed it he learned his lesson. There was no use. It was a burden, maybe he’d get rid of it. The pretty girl with the million-dollar smile would thank him for it. 

He’d been thinking about you ever since you smiled at him last month. What had he done to deserve such a beautiful gesture? He couldn’t even remember. One minute he was minding his own business, buying a coffee, the next his heart soared ten stories and he was standing frozen in time, watching you stir creamer into your cup. You’d caught him staring and smiled at him, offering much more than a friendly curl of the lips. 

If he never forced himself to approach you that day, he wouldn’t have found out your cousin lived in the same apartment complex as him. And you wouldn’t be sitting in the lobby with him at that very moment, waiting on said cousin to finish getting dressed for your double date. 

Date. That’s what you called it, right? He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like it. At the same time though, in the back of his mind, he was cursing himself for even thinking such a thing. It was casual. How did it even come up?

_ “I know this is kind of weird.”  _ You had laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of your shirt while you gathered the courage to actually ask him.  _ “But, my cousin, she’s going on a date with this new guy, and she wants me to come with her in case something goes wrong. And you know, I want to, of course, but I need someone to go with. Like a, a double date kind of thing.” _

Right, that’s how it happened. The memory comforted him slightly, providing him with enough ease to think of it as a date.

“She always takes forever.” You broke the silence, tearing Arthur away from his thoughts. He glanced over to you sitting next to him, pushing back your cuticles. “I know how it is though, getting pretty for a guy.”

He wondered if you got pretty for him. You certainly looked pretty, gorgeous if he was honest. Beyond gorgeous. Those simple words were put to shame compared to you, he thought.

The thought of you standing in front of your bathroom mirror carefully putting on makeup, trying to look your best for him, made him smile. It made him feel important.

“I don’t mind.” Arthur shrugged slightly, looking away from you and back to the wallpaper across from him. He wanted to say more but couldn’t think of a fucking thing to say that would be worth your time.

Little did he know, you were fighting for conversation as well. It was an understatement to say you had a crush on him, he was the only guy you’d met in the depressing city that had been civil with you. Everyone else was either incredibly rude or suspiciously nice. Arthur didn’t expect anything in return, your friendship was more than he thought he deserved. 

“So, where are we going?” He asked you after a few silent moments.

“He’s taking her to some fancy diner a few miles down the road. I’ve only been once, it’s kind of expensive, but I think it’s worth it.” You were happy for the conversation, speaking way more than you needed to. “I forget the name. But they season their food perfectly, everything tastes so good. You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

He opened his mouth to respond but your cousin, Jean, rounded the corner and cut him off. 

“How do I look? Sorry I took so long.” She apologized, smoothing down her skirt and turning in a circle for you to judge her outfit.

“You look amazing, I can see why you took so long.” You stood up, smiling brightly at her. “The shirt I bought you!” Arthur adored the way your face lit up when you noticed the shirt. He found himself gazing up at you with adoration, watching with a soft smile as you talked with Jean.

“You ready then?” You looked down at Arthur and felt your heart warm when you saw the way he was looking at you. 

He nodded and stood up, touching the pockets of his jeans to make sure he had his wallet.

***

You were right. The food was amazing and he loved it. You both ordered the same thing, a pasta with a soup side. If Arthur had a dollar for how many meals he’d had as good as that, he wouldn’t have a single penny.

“How long have you two been together?” Jean’s date, a lovely but intimidating guy named Walter, asked as your main meal was brought to the table. He was about 6’4, bald with a full beard and lots of muscle on him. After conversing for a while you realized he was just a big softie, he liked Blondie and Queen, watched romance movies and loved ice-cream.

Arthur looked at you quickly, wanting to see what your reaction would be. Were you even together? No, you hadn’t even had a date alone with each other, unless you counted meeting up at the coffee shop a few times a date. 

“I, uhm.” You stuttered, eyes flickering nervously between the three people at the table. Your cheeks flushed and you turned to Arthur. “Well, we met about a month ago.”

Walter nodded, eagerly digging into his food. “That’s nice. I met Jean a few days ago, saw her at the corner store and just knew I couldn’t let her go without asking for her number.” Thankfully, nothing more was spoken about it. Neither you nor Arthur could handle any more of the awkwardness that had been sprung upon you. 

The rest of the date went great. Walter and Arthur got along surprisingly well, sharing jokes and making you and Jean laugh so hard a few times you ended up with tears in your eyes. 

He’d never felt happier. 

When the bill came Walter insisted upon paying for it all, waving off you and Arthur offering to pay for your meals. 

“He was great.” You said, walking beside Arthur down the sidewalk back to his apartment. Jean and Walter had gone their own way to his place, no doubt to share a bottle of wine with each other and watch movies. It was sweet. You envied them. 

“Walter?” He asked, hands in his pockets keeping pace with you. “He seemed alright.”

“Alright?” You laughed in reply, shaking your head. “He’s great, amazing for her. He was funny, sweet, and seemed genuinely interested in her, did you hear all the questions he asked her? It’s so hard to find someone like that. The way he looked at her when she spoke, it’s hard to believe that was their first date, he looked so enthralled and… I don’t know. It looked like how love felt.”

Your words were beautiful and they spoke volumes to him, “You speak about them like you’re describing an ice-cream favor you hadn’t had in years.” 

“That’s a perfect metaphor, actually.”

He looked down to his side at you, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. Things seemed to be working out the same way he had imagined them. 


	2. White Roses and Baby's Breath

You couldn’t get your makeup right. 

As if your Friday wasn’t stressful enough, you couldn’t get your damn eyeshadow to blend how you wanted. The world seemed to hate you today.

Looking back, your problems then were laughable compared to the troubles you’d face in the time to come. 

“Why? Why today?” You sighed, grabbing a makeup wipe and rubbing down your eye. You’d start over. “It’s not like I’m already running late.” 

It was going to be your second date with Arthur, he had a stand-up show and wanted you to come. He’d been talking about it for days and the excitement in his eyes was enough to keep you going. Dating someone like him wasn’t at all what you expected. When you first saw him he looked… well, different. You couldn’t exactly explain it but he was the nicest guy you’d ever met. Everything about him was so kind, soft and sweet. You just wanted to make him as happy as he made you.

“Hi!” You smiled brightly when he opened the door, but that smile quickly faded when you saw how stressed out he looked.

“You came.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. A nervous laugh escaped his lips and he covered his mouth, looking over his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“Of course I came.” You raised a brow, his demeanor was completely different. “I’m sorry I was late, I just couldn’t get pretty in time.” You hoped that would clear the awkwardness, and thankfully it did.

“You could crawl out of a grave and still be the most gorgeous woman on Earth.” He grabbed his coat from beside the front door and threw it over his shoulder. 

As you walked down the hall with him to the elevator you apologized profusely, over and over again. 

“Stop.” He smiled softly when the elevator doors closed. “I don’t mind waiting on you. It’s not that bad. We’ll make it.”

You still felt awful. “Well, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” You asked up at him, trying to hide your smile. 

“Like what?” He leaned against the wall of the elevator, looking down into your eyes suspiciously. 

“Like…” You reached into your bag, searching for the plastic-wrapped surprise. You had taken your big purse just so it would fit. You pulled out the bouquet, full of white roses and baby’s breath, holding it out in front of you. The look on his face was priceless, you wished you could capture it on camera. “I picked them up after work, thought you might like them.”

All he wanted to do was kiss you. So he did.

Your first kiss with Arthur was incredible, unexpected, and beautiful. He cupped both your cheeks in his hand, pulling you against him, kissing your lips with such tenderness your heart broke. 

When he finally pulled back you realized the doors had opened and you were being stared at by a middle-aged man.

“Sorry.” You breathed out, pulling Arthur out of the elevator by his wrist. Once you were out of the building you laughed, licking your lips and tasting his mint chapstick. “Did you see the way he was looking at us?”

“I didn’t even notice him.” He was still dizzy from kissing you, his head spinning and full of oxytocin and dopamine. “Jeeze.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to force down the laughter boiling in his throat. 

“Let’s go then, I’ve been waiting all day to hear your jokes.” 

His dry and crude sense of humor shocked you. Such a sweet and kind man telling such dark jokes was jarring, to say the least. But you put on a smile and laughed throughout the show, making sure to look at him the entire time. Sometimes he'd look to you for motivation when he was nervous, or after he told a joke to see how you'd react. Each time he locked eyes with you his heart skipped a beat.

And when his show ended he smiled, this beautiful, shy yet proud smile. You clapped so loud and hard your hands burned, the act so contagious it prompted the entire room to do the same. 

“You were amazing up there.” You praised him as you walked down the sidewalk, your hand loosely holding his. “Did you hear them clapping for you?”

Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, furrowing his brows. “Isn’t that Jean?”

You followed his gaze to the donut shop beside you and your jaw dropped. That definitely was Jean. She was wrapped in the arms of someone you’d never seen before, kissing him with such haste you grew nauseated. “What the fuck?” 

“What happened with Walter?” He asked, reading out the same questions from your mind. 

“I don’t know, they went on another date last night. I didn’t think anything was wrong.” You shook your head in disbelief, taking Arthur’s hand back in yours. “It’s not my business. If she wants me to know she’ll tell me.”

You took him back to your place, a much, much nicer place in the better part of Gotham. It was a shock to Arthur since most of his life was spent… well, it was safe to say he had never experienced the finer things of life. 

“This is yours?” He asked, surprise evident in his voice. 

“Well, my parents paid for a year.” You took off your jacket and hung it by the door. “After that, I’m on my own.” You doubted that, if you asked them to pay for another year they wouldn’t hesitate. But your job paid well enough for you to survive on your own. You were lucky for that, not everyone in the city was privileged enough to say the same.

He followed you into your kitchen, watching you pour two glasses of wine. When you handed him his he took a sip, enjoying the taste. 

“Let’s watch a movie, hmm?” You smiled over the rim of your glass, earning a lazy smirk from him.

After watching a few movies and finishing off the bottle of wine, Arthur fell asleep on your couch. You thought it was adorable. You used to be a light-weight, too. But with the stress of your demanding job, alcohol was a necessity. Goodbye three-beer-drunk, hello tolerance.

You laid a thin sheet over his body, lifting his head as gently as possible to slip a pillow between him and the couch. He was out like a light. 

Brushing his hair out of face you smiled, leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, sweetness.” You whispered and stroked his cheek.


	3. Touching a Nerve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur comes back to you, but something is different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut!

Arthur had left before you woke up, leaving a note on the door explaining he had to go to work. Work on a Saturday? You cringed at the thought. You were hoping to spend the day with him, but you understood how it was. Kind of. You’d grown up privileged enough to never struggle in life, but Jean was the complete opposite. You’d seen her work three days straight, two different jobs and play music on the streets for side money. It was awful, you’d offer to help her out financially many times but her pride was too strong to accept your pity cash.

You spent most of the day grooming yourself, something you did most weekends. Shower, shave, exfoliate, gave yourself a mani-pedi, and plucked your eyebrows. You put in a little extra effort, wanting to impress Arthur. By the time you were done, it was late and you smelt like jasmine.

A knock on the door interrupted your dinner. It was either Jean or Arthur, you weren’t expecting anyone and they were the only ones you could think of to show up unexpected. 

You set your fork down on your plate and slipped off the kitchen barstool, licking the remnants of food off your lips. When you opened the door your lips turned into the widest smile.

“Arthur-”

He smelt like blood, pushing through your front door. You didn’t have time to react before he pushed you against the wall, using his foot to close the door behind him. 

Cold hands on your cheeks, keeping your face close to his as he kissed you roughly. He tasted like paint and blood. What happened? He was acting so different, there was a new aura about him. Confident, firm, he knew what he wanted and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it.

“Arthur.” You panted when he broke the kiss, moving his lips to kiss your jaw. 

He hummed in response, kissing down your jawline, peppering a few on your earlobe. 

“Where have you been?” The question hung in the air, ignored and unanswered. You were going to ask again but his lips met that perfect spot where neck meets shoulder, sending chills down your spine. You stopped caring then.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your skin, moving his hands to the top of your button-up shirt. His voice sounded almost pained, aching like it hurt to say those words. “I can’t even find the right words to do you justice.” 

You looked at his face while he unfastened the first three buttons, taking in everything. He still had his makeup on but it looked like he’d been through hell and back, the paint faded in some places. Something was very, very different. It scared you a little, there was this look in his eyes you only get when something life-changing happens.

The urge to say something was strong but you couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, smiling softly. 

Once all your buttons were undone you shrugged off your shirt, letting it fall down the gap between your back and the wall. He was on you again, closing that gap and kissing down your neck, biting some places gently enough to make you crave more. 

“You don’t need to be gentle.” You whispered after he had caressed your neck with the touch of someone handling antiques. “Trust me, I can handle it.”

He didn’t know if he could, though. The thought of clenching his hand around your throat was enough to make his cock throb. After what he did that day he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself enough to hold back. 

Noticing he was thinking too much you took his left hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips. Maintaining eye contact you took his fingertips into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his two digits. 

He sighed and grabbed your throat with his right hand, choking you firmly with his fingers still in your mouth. He watched your eyes roll back into your head, eyelids fluttering shut, your tongue and lips still working on his fingers.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He murmured, sliding his knee between your legs to spread them. You were wearing your favorite silk pajama set, well, what was left of it. A pair of teasingly small pink shorts.

You rocked your hips against his knee, just enough to get friction. God, he hadn’t even touched you and you were already aching. You couldn’t imagine how wet you were.

Was this how your first time would be? Damn right. You couldn’t imagine it any other way.

He kissed you again, the taste of blood coming back to your tongue. While you ground down against his knee he slipped his tongue into your mouth, running over every crevasse, every tooth, and taste bud. 

“Please, touch me.” You moaned into his mouth. “I need to feel you.”

Arthur smiled against your lips, using the hand that wasn’t choking you down your bare chest. His still wet fingers grazed your nipples, dragging your saliva down to your belly button. “You’re so perfect. Every inch of you.” Toying with the edge of your shorts he sighed, grinding his hard-on against your thigh. 

When you felt how stiff he was you moaned, tossing your head back against the wall. “I need it so bad. Please.”

He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, he had to have you right there and then. Grabbing you by your hips, he moved you from the wall and laid you on the floor in front of your door. Your shorts came off in a quick movement, along with your panties. He wanted to taste you, badly, but burying himself inside you was a much more pressing matter.

Arthur didn’t even bother taking his clothes off. He unbuttoned his pants and shimmied them down just enough to free himself, taking his cock into his hands. 

You moaned under him, raising your legs to lock around his waist at the ankles. The tall skinny guys always had the best-

“Fuck!” You squealed, clenching your eyes shut as he pushed himself inside you. “Oh, slow, please!” 

He lowered himself enough to kiss your neck, slowly pushing himself forward until his hips touched yours. He loved everything in that moment, the way you moved and the way your pretty hands reached up to tangle their fingers in his hair. He shut his eyes and savored the feeling of being completely inside of you, trying so damn hard to hold himself back. 

You couldn’t find the words to express how it felt so you settled on puffs of air and soft moans. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were close to your own end. Maybe it was because you adored him so much, you’d never admit it to him but you were head over heels with the man. Why? You’d never liked anyone that much before, ever. You’d had your fair share of partners but, Arthur? There was something about him you admired to a great extent.

He waited a moment, gritting his teeth and holding his eyes clenched shut. When he felt you relax around him he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head to the side so he could bite into a perfect section of skin. 

Your eyes snapped wide open and you let out a surprised groan, completely at his mercy, not daring to move. At the same time, he started fucking you hard and fast, pounding relentlessly into your body with such force you wanted to cry. It was so intense you couldn’t even moan, the air forced out of your lungs with each harsh thrust. 

“Say my name.” He hissed after releasing the skin on your neck, his breath hot on your raw flesh. “Come on, say my fucking name.”

“Arthur, oh, please, don’t stop, just like that!” Your voice trembled on each syllable. He fucked your body so perfectly you felt you could die happy like that. “Arthur, please, Arthur… You’re perfect, Arthur!”

Arthur grunted, moving his hand back to your throat when he felt himself nearing his own end. “You’re mine. Mine. Say it.” His fingers tightened around your throat but not firm enough to prevent speech, he wanted to hear your voice when he came.

“Yours, all yours sweetie.” You moaned, clenching around him as your orgasm came out of nowhere. “Ah, fuck, Arthur!” You came around him, tossing your head against the floor. 

He squeezed your neck harder and slammed into you a few last times, letting out his own symphony of moans. He’d touched himself many times to the thought of you but his imagination never came up with anything as beautiful and magnificent as this.

The thought of his seed so deep inside you caused him to curse, if he wasn’t so tired he would definitely go for another round. 

“What was that?” You finally spoke after what seemed like hours of silence. 

“Hmm?” He lifted his head from your neck, looking down at your face. How did you manage to still look so perfect and put together after that? He was sure he looked like a mess. “Oh, I don’t know. I just, I had a…”

Not finishing his sentence he sat up, slipping out of you. You sat up with him and grabbed your top, pulling it over your shoulders. Not that you didn’t enjoy it, obviously, but you wanted to know where the hell his change of demeanor came from. 

It seemed like he wasn’t going to continue so you changed the subject. “Well, either way, you need a shower.” You reached out and touched his face, wiping some of the blood and paint off his cheek. “Then we can sleep, how’s that sound?”

He smiled a little, causing you to grin. “Alright.”

“There he is.” After he came he seemed like himself again, something you missed. As hot as the sex was you preferred the Arthur you met that day in the coffee shop. Sweet and just so perfectly real. “I’ll get your clothes washed, you can use my bathrobe until they’re done, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded and you kissed his cheek, standing up with him.

***

Your third date was spent roaming around the city, window shopping and wasting your most recent paycheck. You took him out to breakfast, buying him whatever he wanted, then went to every store that seemed interesting enough to spend money on.

“Do you like Def Leppard?” You asked over your shoulder, looking at Arthur behind you. He stood off to the side, looking through old records of people you’d never even heard of. “I know you said rock isn’t your thing, but I really like them.”

Arthur walked to you, standing close enough you could smell his cologne. He started wearing cologne when he met you, something he didn’t ever care about before. He looked over you at the cassette tape in your hand, reading the band name. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve heard them before.”

You turned to face him, a look of teasing disbelief on your face. “Really? What about Led Zeppelin? Journey?”

He shook his head and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, laughing softly. “I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, well, we’re going to have to fix that!” You turned back to the table of tapes, picking out some of your favorite ones. 

In the corner of the store, the news played on T.V, discussing the murder of three men. You barely listened, people were dying all the time around Gotham. It wasn’t like you didn’t care, rather it was incredibly depressing and you’d learned to tune it out.

But Arthur, on the other hand, was totally transfixed on it. He turned from you and looked up at the T.V with this strange look on his face, absorbed in every word and image. You were talking to him about this new thing called MTV but the words fell on deaf ears. 

When you realized he wasn’t listening you set the tapes down and walked up to him, following his gaze up to the screen half consumed by static. “You know them?” You asked, pushing back your cuticles while you looked along with him.

“What do you think about that?” He finally broke away from the news and looked down at you. 

“About them?”

“What do you think about the guy who shot them?”

You thought for a second before shrugging. “I don’t know, I don’t really think about stuff like that. I guess he’s, I don’t know. They said he wore a mask, right?”

He nodded, still looking at you with that intense look of attention he always had for you. 

“Well, maybe he’s the new serial killer. The new Ted Bundy.” You joked with a grin, nudging his arm with your shoulder. Okay, wow, dark joke, maybe it was in poor taste.

“The new Ted Bundy?” He scoffed, his upper lip curling ever so slightly. “Ted Bundy is disgusting. Killing innocent people, they didn’t deserve it.” He looked back to the news reporter and tried to shake off the fact you’d indirectly compared him to Ted Fucking Bundy.

“Do you think they deserved it?”

“I know they did.”

You swallowed and looked away, his gaze becoming too much. Your heart started beating so fast it  _ hurt _ . Something didn’t feel right, something about the way he took such an interest in the killings, or rather the killer, it set off so many red flags you couldn’t think. The other night suddenly made so much sense, the blood, that look in his eyes. “I’ve got to go home, I’ll call you later, alright?” 

If you saw the way his face dropped you would have changed your mind and brought him home with you, but you didn’t. You walked away from him and out of the shop, leaving the tapes you’d picked out on the table.


	4. Drink My Wine

Things were getting worse in Gotham. It was hard for you, as pretentious as that sounded, every time you stepped foot outside your cushy apartment. People saw your jewelry, your pretty clothes, hell, the way you walked, and they knew. They knew you had it made and they hated you for it. 

You stayed away from Arthur for a week. It just felt too strange. You were at the point where you considered staying away for good, but then it happened. 

“Please, I need to see you.” Arthur whimpered against your door, pressed so close against it he could smell you through the wood. “My mother, she’s in the hospital, she had a stroke.”

You stayed quiet, pressing your forehead against the door. You knew it was unwise to open the door but you did it anyway, slowly turning the handle. Once you saw his eyes you realized how much you fucking missed him. How could you leave him alone like that? _What was wrong with you?_ He needed you and you weren’t there.

Taking him into your embrace, you sighed. “I’m sorry sweetie.”

His voice trembled, his form melting in your arms as he sobbed. “God, I needed you that day, (Y/N).”

“I know. But I’m here right now. I’m here.” You cooed and rested your forehead against his chest. “Do you want to go see her?”

“No, that’s where I came from.”

You brought him to the couch and sat him down. “You want something to eat, sweetie?” You sat on your knees in front of him, brushing the hair from his face. He leaned into your hand and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. 

“No. I can’t eat.” He said finally. 

You stroked his cheek with your fingers for a bit, looking up at his face. You were so deep in thought you didn’t notice when he had opened his eyes. 

He looked at you for a bit. How did you do it? How did you make him feel so happy? He was only happy around you. You had this magic that made him forget everything else that was going on. His mother, Thomas Wayne, the three men he killed, everything. When he was alone with you it was just you. You were the only thing that existed. Everything else just vanished.

Your eyes came back to focus and you noticed he was looking at you. “Oh, sorry.” You laughed softly and leaned up, kissing his forehead. 

“Where’d you go?” He sounded so gentle then, it almost broke your heart. 

“Was thinking about things.”

He knew what you meant. The tensions were higher than ever, and they were mad at you. People like you. You hadn’t heard from Jean in forever and it made you worried she was mad at you too. 

“I’m going to warm myself up some soup I made this morning. Are you sure you don’t want any?” You asked, reaching out to brush his hair with your fingers.

He looked up at you with that look of total devotion and veneration, smiling. “Sure. I’ll take a bowl.”

After he ate and showered he sat with you on the couch until he dozed off, head in your lap while you played with his hair.

‘A boy’s best friend is his mother.’ You looked up from Arthur to your T.V, seeing Norman Bates talk to Marion. Your eyes were half-lidded and you tried to watch the movie but you couldn’t. You looked back to Arthur in your lap, smiling lazily. How had you stayed away for so long?

When the movie ended you slid off the couch, careful not to wake him. You were going to make yourself a cup of tea but your eyes were drawn to the journal on your coffee table. 

‘ _ How did I let this happen? Nonsense, I didn’t allow anything, I was powerless to her. She smells like sunshine and is the only source of happiness in my sad excuse for a life. I could go on for pages about her. _ ’ And he had. Pages and pages, describing you in such a beautiful way you fell in love with the thin pages. Did he really think that way about you? ‘ _ I think she’s the only reason I’m here anymore. If I didn’t meet her, if she didn’t spare me the grace of a smile, I wouldn’t be here. _ ’

He woke up after an hour, slowly sitting up and wiping his eyes. “(Y/N)?” He sounded so cute when he was sleepy.

You looked up from the pages of his journal and smiled softly, looking at him with admiration. “Do you really love me, baby?”

The color drained from his face when he saw what you were looking at and he stood from your couch, walking over to the desk you were sat at. Where did you get that? He swallowed and looked into your eyes, relaxing a little when he saw the look on your face. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” What else did you see? His suicidal ramblings? The homicidal rants? The blood on some pages?

“I know. But I think I get a pass on snooping considering.” You closed the spiral notebook and ran a hand through your hair. There was so much more you wanted to talk about, from what he wrote it sounded like he really needed a therapist and professional help. You could only do so much for him, you were only one person.

He chewed on his lip, looking down at you. “You look tired.”

“I am.” You stood and rounded the table. “Let’s go to bed, hmm?” You smiled, cupping his cheek. 

He’d never slept better. 

***

The next day you visited his mother with him. She looked awful, it was a wonder she was alive. She could barely speak.

“Could you step out for a minute?” Arthur whispered to you, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I need to talk with my mother about something.”

“Of course, sweetie.” You kissed his forehead and stood from the achingly uncomfortable chair, picking up your purse. You’d see if the cafeteria had anything edible. 

The white walls made your eyes hurt. You fixed yourself a plate of food, a sandwich, a bag of chips and a chocolate chip muffin. The food was fine. 

“You’re here with Penny Fleck’s son, right?” A nurse snapped you out of your thoughts and you smiled brightly, nodding.

“Yes, I am.” You watched her sit down across from you, raising your interest and slight confusion.

She smiled then, but not a pretty smile. It was disgusting. Like she was in on a joke you weren’t aware of. “Have you seen him on the T.V?”

The T.V? You furrowed your brows and shook your head, eyeing her suspiciously. “Arthur’s on the T.V?”

“Yeah, the Murray Franklin show. He tore him apart.” 

You didn’t find it as amusing as she did. Your grip tightened on your styrofoam cup full of coffee. “No, I haven’t seen it.”

The way she smirked made your lip twitch. What was so funny about him being made fun of? You’d yet to see the clip but you knew it couldn’t be good. You’d never liked Murray, he lived for views and would do anything for the ratings.

Your fingernails pushed through the styrofoam, your fingertips following. Hot coffee flowed from the puncture marks and burned your hand, spilling onto the table and shocking you out of your blind anger. “Mmm, fuck.” You hissed and stood up, shaking the droplets of coffee from your hand. You wanted to say more to her, but fuck, your hand burned. 

“There you are.” Arthur surprised you when you walked out of the bathroom, making you jump. “You ready?”

“More than.” You sighed in relief. The burning sensation had come back to your hand after the comfort of cold water left it. “Arthur, a nurse told me she saw you on the Murray Franklin show.”

“Did she?” He tried to keep the surprise from his voice but it was a pathetic attempt. He felt like a kid again, trying to lie his way out of something. 

He obviously didn’t want to talk about it so you kept your mouth shut, walking out of the hospital with him.

Later that day you helped him out at his apartment. You were sweeping the kitchen floor when the phone rang.

“Yes?” Arthur answered it in a flash, leaning against the wall in an attempt to seem nonchalant. A few moments passed. “Oh, my god. She’s… what?”

You propped your hands on the broom handle and looked at him, observing every twitch of his face. You knew when Arthur was faking an emotion, and he certainly was then. His eyes flashed to yours and when he saw you weren’t buying it he dropped the act, only putting on a show for the person on the other end.

He hung up the phone and rubbed his face, shaking his head. “I need to be alone right now.”

You nodded and set the broom against the wall, picking up your purse. “When you’re ready, come over.” On the way out you kissed his cheek.

You thought hard on the way back home. 

Arthur had done something to you. His kind words, sweet acts, and facade of innocence had lured you in and he had slowly twisted you into what you were now. Maybe he didn’t mean to, but he had turned you into a different person. You didn’t care that he murdered three men, you didn’t care. You were so in love with him he could do just about anything and get away with it.

When you got back you saw Jean knocking on your door. 

“Jean, darling!” You called out down the hall, causing her to turn to you.

“There you are!” She opened her arms for a hug, embracing you tightly. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

“Brilliant.” It wasn’t a lie.

“I saw your boyfriend on the Murray Franklin Show the other night.” She said as she watched you unlock the door. “They went pretty tough on him.”

You still hadn’t seen it and you weren’t sure you wanted to. You opened the door and let her in, closing it behind you. 

Jean walked into your place like she owned it, setting her bag down on your kitchen table. You watched with a content look on your face as she took off her jacket, draping it on your barstool. “Oh, (Y/N), I’ve got so much to tell you. Remember Walter?”

You prepared yourself for the drama and endless stories, entering your kitchen and popping the cork off a bottle of red wine. “Tell me all about it.”

She stuck her hand in your face and the glow of a diamond took you off guard. The glass in your hand fell to the floor, shattering by your feet. “What the fuck?”

“He proposed!”

“I saw you kissing someone else.” Wow, you hadn’t meant to say it, but it came right out. Her face fell and she lowered her hand, taking in what you had said.

“Jesus, (Y/N). Way to… Jesus.” She sat down and looked at the table, trying to think of what to say. 

“Arthur saw too.”

She looked back up at you and bit her lip, those blue eyes of hers pleading with you. “You won’t tell, will you?”

“I’m gonna drink my wine.” You grabbed a new glass and filled it, sliding her one of her own. “And mind my business.”

“Thank you.” She sighed, taking it up to her lips. “I really do love him, (Y/N), honest. I was drunk and made one mistake.” After a pause, she continued. “How are you and Arthur?”

“Wonderful.” You didn’t miss a beat. You licked your lips and looked at her. “I think I fell in love. I don’t just love him. I’ve found the most wonderful thing in the world and I’m not going to think too much about it.”

She made an ‘aww’ sound, nudging you. “Good, you deserve it.”

“I’m not going to lie, I hadn’t seen you in so long I thought you’d turned against me.” You admitted, drinking your wine. “Like everyone else in the city.”

“Right, fuck the rich, isn’t that what they’re saying? It’s refreshing, you know? We finally have a voice.” As she spoke you felt your heart drop. “I’d never do anything to you, obviously. But the riots, when I’m there-”

“You’ve gone?” You almost choked on your drink.

“Of course, If they’re not going to help us, we need to make them hear us.” 

You’d never cared for politics, and it was your privilege that made it so. You never had to worry the way Jean and Arthur do. 

“I know you don’t want to hear about it. Tell me about Arthur.”

You spent the night talking about your men, raving about the little things they did that you adored. Before you knew it you had finished the bottle between each other and ended up passed out on the couch, curled up against her chest.


	5. Me and You, Always.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, coffee, why was he acting like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so here we are, at our end. I'm very nervous about this, and if I'm honest I would love to continue and I probably will, but in a different work.

Penny’s funeral was the hardest thing you had to sit through. Not only was it cold outside but it was overcast, not to mention the fact two agents had been watching the entire thing. Couldn’t he get some peace? It was his mother’s funeral for fuck's sake. 

“Why are they here?” You whispered to Arthur, looking over your shoulder to the men. 

He turned to you, expressionless. That scared you, usually you could read him like a book, but recently he’d been so distant. It killed you. “Why do you think?” He breathed, his top lip twitching ever so slightly. 

You knew his mother’s death wasn’t natural, and he knew you knew. As if you weren’t stressed enough with the riots every night you had to deal with this. You’d been nothing but supportive with Arthur, so why was he shutting you out now? 

“I think we better go.” You said and he looked away from you, sighing.

The two of you left the cemetery, but not before you were approached by the two detectives.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Arthur said before either of them could get a word out. “It’s not right.”

“We just came to pay our respects.” Detective… you squinted to read his name. “Sorry about your mother.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad.” The other detective added, making the interaction much more awkward.

“(Y/N), go back home. I’ll come by after.” 

“Arthur, no-”

He looked at you with an expression that sent chills over your body. He’d never looked at you like that before. Never. He looked absolutely livid, eyes holding back such an indescribable amount of anger and frustration. It fucking hurt. And just as quick as it came it left his face, replaced with a soft smile.

“Please.” He asked weakly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. You flinched. 

You looked at the two detectives and smiled, keeping your eyes away from theirs. If they saw how scared you looked they’d become even more suspicious. 

Did they know what you knew?

“Alright, sweetie.” You whispered.

***

Those hours waiting for Arthur were the longest you’d ever been forced to wait. To make it worse, he never fucking showed up. 

It hurt so bad. You’d fallen in love with someone beautiful, so damn beautiful, and he’d turned into a completely different person. Killing does that to people, you supposed.

“Everything’s moving so fast.” You explained to Jean over coffee. You’d called her up near midnight and begged her to come see you. She’d taken you out to get coffee and clear your head over conversation. The same coffee shop you’d met Arthur in. You were sitting in the exact same spot, too.

“Are you sure you can’t tell me about it?” She took a sip of her sickeningly black coffee and licked her lips. 

“I wish I could.” You really did. It would take a huge weight off your shoulders if you could pour out everything that had happened, but you couldn’t. You didn’t know if she could keep a secret like that. “God, I wish I could. But it’s between Arthur and me. I can’t just…”

“Didn’t you tell me he used to be a party clown?”

Your eyes quickly flicked up to hers and you narrowed them. “Sort of. Why?”

Jean looked around the coffee shop and leaned forward over the table. “Well, remember when those three guys got shot? And the word went around the guy who did it was wearing a clown mask?”

“Arthur didn’t wear a mask. It was paint.”

Jean sighed and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t finished. What if it wasn’t a mask? You said he’s been acting weird, right? You don’t think…”

You closed your eyes and tried to hold back the sobs. Everything was crumbling around you so fucking fast. “Jean…” You whispered your warning and shook your head, eyes still closed. You were afraid if you opened them she’d see the tears.

“Hear me out.”

“No.” Even though she didn’t know it she was right. He was the man who’d killed them. He’d killed his mother too. Who was next? You?

Arthur would never hurt you.

Right?

She convinced you to go to him since it was painfully obvious he wasn’t going to approach you first. So you did.

You walked down the grotesque hallways of Arthur’s apartment complex, every step you took towards his door becoming heavier and harder. You wanted to see him and kiss him, have him look at you with an impossible amount of love. He hadn’t looked at you like that in a while. 

His door was only a few feet away now. 

Before you could think of what to say the door opened and a man ran out, his whimpers audible as he ran down the hall to the stairs. You watched him leave, a look of utter confusion on your face. 

“(Y/N)?”

You turned back to his door and smiled brightly, preparing a sweet greeting, but then you saw his face. It was painted white as if he was preparing for work, maybe he had a new job? You took a few steps towards him and then saw the blood. 

“What did you do?” You hissed, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned away from your hand and that was the breaking point. 

Shoving Arthur into his door you started cursing, letting all your emotions out at once. “What the fuck has gotten into you? Talk to me, Arthur!”

He fell against his door and it swung open against his back, causing him to stumble back into his apartment. You followed him in and slammed the door behind you, ready to continue your rant, and, oh my god, is that a body? A large man laid slumped on the floor, his skull split open, the wall behind his head completely covered in his blood.

“You…” Were you angry? Scared? Both. You looked away from the body to him, completely livid. “Do you want to be put in prison? What the fuck!”

“I’m going to be on the Murray Franklin show tonight.” He ignored you entirely and went back to his table to finish his face.

The amount of rage, confusion, and sadness that you felt was indescribable. “No, you’re not.” You stalked towards him, throwing your purse on the floor. “You’re going to explain to me what the fuck is going on here.”

“I’m going.”

“No, you’re not! You’re not okay.”

“Don’t tell me I’m not okay.” He hissed, standing up so fast the chair he sat on fell backward. He was looking like he might hit you. Arthur would never hit you, but this wasn’t Arthur. “Are you going to cry? Really?” The blood on his face felt so normal you weren’t even phased. You were going to cry because this wasn’t the man you fell in love with.

“Baby, you know this isn’t easy for me, tell me what’s going on, please.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a few steps backward in a dramatic manner, throwing his hands in the air. “None of this is easy.”

When he saw the tears trickle down your cheeks he broke a little, giving into you. He still loved you and couldn't believe he was lucky enough to call you his, he was ashamed of himself for being so cold. “Come here.” 

A little too eager, you found yourself wrapped in his arms. It felt fucking amazing to be held by him again. You let the sobs come and he brought you to the bedroom, setting you down gently. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” He knelt in front of you and kissed your knees, sliding his hands up your legs. 

You blinked away your tears and nodded, sniffling. “I love you too.”

“I know it’s been hard, but I promise, things are about to get better. A lot better.” He kissed your knees again, sliding his body up so his lips could reach your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat but he continued talking, the paint from his face rubbing off onto your skin. “I’ll make it up to you. After tonight, anything you want, anywhere you want to go, anything you want to do...” He slid his hands under your skirt and pushed it up around your waist. “It’s all yours.”

You fell back on the bed and closed your eyes. He made everything better within an hour, talking sweet to you and doing unspeakable things with his fingers and tongue. 

After quite a few mutual orgasms he pulled his pants back on, slipping out of the bed. “I’m going to finish getting ready, okay?” He kissed your forehead and you hummed in response, eyes still heavy from coming so damn hard.

What the fuck?

You sat up and put your clothes back on, hurrying into the living room just in time to catch him walking to the door. 

Wow. He looked… 

He wore a red suit, his face painted, hair slicked back, he looked completely different. 

“What are you going to do?”

He paused as if even he didn’t know, looking into a mirror. He slicked his hair back and sighed, smacking his lips. “Watch and see.”

He left you alone with a dead body in his cold apartment.

***

You went back to your place after you took care of the body. The entire time you couldn’t help but think, ‘Why the fuck am I doing this for him?’. It took hours of cleaning but you made it back just in time to watch the show.

“You get what you fucking deserve!”

You didn’t even flinch when the gun went off. 

All you knew was you had to get to him. You didn’t even bother changing out of your red nightdress, only stopping to put the first shoes on you saw, the black kitten heels Jean had let you borrow for your first date with Arthur.

You grabbed your car keys, something that had been untouched for far too long. You’d been so used to walking everywhere since everything was only a couple blocks away, but you knew you’d need to get to him fast.

The ‘65 Mustang still smelt like your father's cologne. 

_ Arthur touched your face with the tips of his fingers, admiring you with that look. Like you were the only thing that existed in the entire universe. He ran his fingers down your neck, his eyes flickering about your form. “It’s you and me.” _

_ “Always.” _

Always. 

You drove like a madwoman, cutting in front of cars and driving onto the sidewalk a few times. The only thing that mattered was finding him, the love of your life, the only thing that mattered. He had been a pain in the ass the past week but you couldn’t let him go that easy. 

Smoke filled the air, people burned anything they could get their hands on. A car had crashed right in front of you on the way, flipping over a good five times before crashing into the coffee shop where you’d met him.

What had he done to you? Did he even know what he did to you? You blinked the tears from your eyes and sniffed. You’d find him, it would turn out alright. He would be okay.

A cop car in front of you caused you to press down on the brakes, ever so gently. You’d seen countless cop cars, so why was this one any different? You rolled your eyes at how slow they were going and went to press the brakes.

Before you could an ambulance demolished the side of the cop car. You slammed on the brakes, your hair flying forward, blinding you momentarily.

“Fuck!” 

A few moments passed and you screamed. You fucking screamed like you were being murdered. Your throat burned in protest but you had to get it out. You beat the steering wheel with your hands and screamed until you couldn’t anymore. You felt you’d gone completely mad. What were you thinking? You’d never find him. He was probably already in jail, or worse. Your throat tightened painfully when you considered the worst.

That’s when you saw the flash of red from his suit through your windshield.

“Oh, oh,” You breathed, wide-eyed and stunned. Ripping the keys from the ignition you almost tore the door handle off opening the car door, stepping out of the white Mustang. That was him. He was right in front of you.

You covered your mouth, watching the men gently carry him to the hood of the cop car. He was set down like an angel and they backed away. Your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough.

“Sweetie,” You wiped the hair from his face with a soft touch, climbing on the severely dented hood. Glass poked your bare knees angrily but you couldn’t care less. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

People watched and danced, throwing flares around the streets, smashing bottles, shooting guns, everything you could think of. It was like they were witnessing the birth of something, and in some twisted way, they were.

Choking, coughing, blood sprayed from his mouth, his eyes struggling open. When he saw who it was looking down at him he smiled and forced himself to sit up.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He whispered, nuzzling his face into your neck, smearing his blood on your jaw. “This is all for us. All of it.”

You watched the people wearing his face as a mask cheer, praising him as if he was a god. And he was, to them at least. 

He stood, looking out over the crowd. He extended one arm, and then the other, twisting and turning in an intricate dance that had been perfected for  _ this very moment _ . He turned his back on you, arms slowly reaching up to touch his face.

He turned around and smiled. 

He wasn’t Arthur anymore.

A new smile, one you’d never seen before, stretched from ear to ear. Wet and hot, dangerous. The people around you went fucking crazy.

Joker looked down at you and reached for your hand, offering his bloody fingertips. 

There was no going back now. Not now, not ever. 

You took his hand and stood beside him, looking at the people. They would do anything for the two of you, it was painfully obvious. As soon as police backup came they swarmed their cars, doing everything they could to protect you.

Joker took your face in his hands, making you look at him.

“You and me.” He said, the blood from his lips slowly trickling down his chin. You had to read his lips considering everything else was so intolerably loud it drowned out his words.

He made you behave like an animal, you had this look in your eyes that exuded predatory hunger. You weren’t yourself anymore, either. You weren’t (Y/N) and he wasn’t Arthur. 

“Always.” You mouthed back to him, closing your eyes to meet his lips.


End file.
